


As Old as Song

by ireadtoomuchfantasy



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), Beauty and the Beast (2017), Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types, Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms
Genre: Beauty and the Beast, Bisexual Female Character of Color, F/F, Fairy Tale Retellings, Historical Accuracy? Don't Know Her, Lesbian Character, Time and Setting? Not even the author is sure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 20:38:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15008999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ireadtoomuchfantasy/pseuds/ireadtoomuchfantasy
Summary: When a story is as old as this one, so old that it remembers when time itself was new, it’s impossible to not alter it with each new telling. However, even the most frequently adapted stories will always contain some hidden veins of truth, if not in its mutable players and setting, then hidden somewhere in its core to hold meaning for lovers of all persuasions.  Perhaps here you will find nothing resembling the history recorded in textbooks, or as much similarity as you might like to the versions of this story known by heart to many, but fear not, the opening strains will remain familiar, for-Once upon a time, in a far away land, a young princess lived in a shining castle.Alternative summary: Maybe not the lesbian Beauty and the Beast retelling we deserved, but the one we needed.**CURRENTLY ON HIATUS UNTIL THE AUTHOR PULLS HER SHIT TOGETHER IN HER OFFLINE LIFE BEFORE SHE ATTEMPTS THIS STORY PROPERLY, AT WHICH POINT WHAT IS CURRENTLY HERE WILL BE COMPLETELY REWRITTEN**





	As Old as Song

When a story is as old as this one, so old that it remembers when time itself was new, it’s impossible to not alter it with each new telling. However, even the most frequently adapted stories will always contain some hidden veins of truth, if not in its mutable players and setting, then hidden somewhere in its core to hold meaning for lovers of all persuasions.  Perhaps here you will find nothing resembling the history recorded in textbooks, or as much similarity as you might like to the versions of this story known by heart to many, but fear not, the opening strains will remain familiar, for-

_Once upon a time, in a far away land, a young princess lived in a shining castle._

Princess Cecelia had no father, for he had died when she was only a babe. Her mother had left when she was barely weaned, gone to lead her army and defend her country against greedy invaders who thought a kingless realm ripe for the taking. They would soon be proven wrong.

The battle was long and hard and although the Queen was victorious, it was short-lived, as one invading country succeeded another, and a campaign that should have taken only two years instead lasted fifteen.

In the Queen’s absence, the staff of the castle all collectively raised Cecelia in a large and loving family, her every need and desire attended to, (though perhaps in hindsight, thought her governess, the girl had been more than a tad overindulged as a result).

Despite missing her mother even as her memories of her grew faint, Cecelia, or “Cece” as they called her, grew into an excitable, playful, and intelligent child with a great fondness for music above all else. 

Several years passed, and Cece’s mother, the Queen had still not returned. In order to instruct her in all of the relevant subjects a future monarch would need, a tutor was hired to teach Cece history, geography, math, the known sciences, economy, and politics.

When the tutor arrived, some of the maids whispered and giggled to each other over how handsome he was. Cece thought little of it, perhaps still being too young to think about such things, but also unable to help but think that she wished someone else had been sent, for he sometimes gazed at her too long and he always gripped his cane (a finely crafted piece, carved with pictures and symbols she wished she could get a closer look at) tightly enough to leave his hand white knuckled.

Their lessons quickly began, and from the start, Cece- no, _Cecelia_ , she wasn’t a child anymore- her tutor said, learned that his intensity was also applied to how he taught, for he tolerated no play and laughter in their lessons. Should she ever begin to question him or attempt to debate, she found herself shut down quickly with either dismissal or outright contempt. Soon she learned not to ask questions, but to simply accept what she was told.

Eventually their lessons in politics seemed to become not so much about how to take care of her people, as how to increase her own wealth and power over them; the singular time she ever suggested otherwise, she was reminded in no further terms that she was royalty, placed on the throne by Destiny and the gods themselves. She had been given subjects who would serve and bow down to her; she owed them nothing for she was only a step lower than the divines themselves. In order to remain as such, kindness and compassion were obstacles. Only a ruler willing to be cunning and ruthless could maintain hold of her power.

Such were the unctuous words poured into Cecelia’s ears, and it was about that time that she stopped playing with her governess’ infant son, refused to offer assistance to those she had once happily aided, and only provided favors to others when she knew she would receive something in return.

However, one thing that hadn’t changed was Cecelia’s love of music, it being the one thing that brought out the softer, joyful little Cece the staff had once known. Several of the most acclaimed musicians in the land were discovered and hired by the head of the household in order to keep her passion alive and thriving and with it, the remnants of that sweet young girl.

For the first time since she’d started her lessons, the princess reacted with delight at the idea of receiving proper instruction, and when not with her tutor, Cecelia worked hard to master every instrument she was given. Over time, she came to master the harp, harpsichord, dulcimer, mandolin, violin and even her own voice. Not only that, but she even learned to sing and dance with exceeding grace. Not a day went by that Cecelia didn’t receive some form of praise, though she never returned it with gratitude or humility. 

Even so, with every passing year, the princess grew more accomplished and quite fair too, for she had grown into her father’s autumn hair and tall slender frame and her mother’s narrow dove grey eyes and high cheekbones. However, where others began to notice Cecelia’s charming looks, she herself found that the sight of men did noting to excite her in return. It seemed if anything that she took more pleasure in observing the ladies of the court and maids then in watching any of the gentlemen.

By the time Cecelia reached the age of sixteen, word had spread of her talent and loveliness, and suitors begun to flock to the castle to heap love letters and tokens and still more adulation at her feet. Unfortunately, none of the men had Cecelia’s interest, and although she now had inklings as to why, they were not thoughts she could entertain. After all, she had to consider the political benefits that would come with her match. But no matter how much she wished she could send her unwanted suitors away with a lash of her tongue, she also could not risk creating conflict. However, she still wanted to prevent or at least delay any chance of a wedding and so she thought and plotted and schemed until she came up with a plan that ensured no man could lay claim to her.

The next day, Princess Cecelia made a proclamation to her suitors:

“I shall only give my hand in marriage to one that brings me three gifts. First, a rose of everlasting beauty, second, a mirror that will show me my heart’s desires, and third, a cloak made only from shed snakeskin.”

Although the suitors eagerly rushed to fulfill the requests the moment she finished speaking, one man remained behind whom Cecelia was surprised to recognize as her tutor. At her stare, he gave her a smile that seemed too wide for his face and a shudder raced down her spine at the look, so similar to the one she had received at their first meeting so many years ago. It was not soon enough that he left with the others.

For several months Cecelia waited, and was pleased when none of her suitors returned, all of them having eventually given up and returned home when they realized that all roses wilted only two weeks at the longest after being cut, magic mirrors were incredibly rare, and even should the first two items be found, a snake shed cloak would be impossible to make due to the brittle nature of the material.

However, not all of them were so easily discouraged, and a year and a half later, in the middle of a blizzard there was a knock upon the front doors. It was none other than the princess’ former tutor, claiming to have fulfilled her tasks.

Although greatly concerned and even angered at the idea of someone outwitting her, Cecelia was curious to see if he told the truth.

The tutor was brought into the throne room where she waited for him to present his gifts, and there on a table set out for him, he laid out three items.

Out of his satchel, the tutor pulled a single perfect rose, red as an open wound, suspended in a small bell jar, seemingly preserved in perfect condition.

Next he took out an ornate hand mirror and offered it to Cecelia. Taking it, she asked to see her mother. With a flash, the mirror showed in its surface an image of the Queen on horseback, riding home now that the fighting was finally over and eager to see her daughter again for the first time in fifteen years.

Finally, with a flourish the tutor pulled a white cloak out and upon closer examination, Cecelia was astonished, for as impossible as it seemed, the material truly did appear to be translucent scales; several hundred or even thousands of shed snakeskins sewn together, but it felt and draped more like fabric than the fragile material she knew it to truly be. Marveling at the cloak, she put it on and found it to be perfectly serviceable, if not as warm as any of her fur and wool cloaks.

“Now then, if you are satisfied, your Highness,” said the tutor, eyes glittering as he gave a bow. “I believe I have won my bride and that there is now a wedding to plan.”

While objectively the tutor was a man with fine features, Cecelia’s heart and stomach sank as she looked at him, and his smug smile made her only feel disgust and fury.

“You did bring what I asked for, but the fact remains that while you have fulfilled my terms, you must also earn my mother’s blessing before we can be engaged,” she said coldly. “But I hope it shall not come to that, for truthfully I do not wish to marry you and would rather have you take your gifts and be gone.”

The tutor’s eyes seemed to flash at that and he gripped his cane tighter. “Is that right? And just what about me do you object to?”

“Your age, for one,” Cecelia drawled. “You are pleasing enough to the eye, and have many more years left to be handsome but I would rather have a companion of my own age with the energy to keep up with me through the years. For another, you have no great wealth or political alliances to offer me, but expect me to wed a mere commoner. Additionally, you speak of winning my hand as a hunter speaks of catching a prize stag. Promise or no, I will not marry a man who sees me as a reward rather than a partner worthy of respect! Lastly, you yourself have told me to never accept an offer when there is no or little benefit to me. By your own terms, I have little reason beyond your trinkets and your few remaining years of youth to accept you as a husband and you are a pathetic fool to think you could capture my heart or my hand!”

For a moment, the tutor stood stunned in his place, but then he grinned once more as before Cecelia’s eyes he seemed to shift somehow until he stood before her even more handsome than before, but unsettlingly so, his face so unblemished and symmetrical it reminded her more of a doll than a human face. Before she could blink he was suddenly far too close to her, and she found herself trembling, frozen in her spot.

“I’ve taught you well,” he laughed as he clapped his hands. “Too well it seems. Ah, dear little Cece you’ve grown into quite a remarkable young woman. Beautiful, talented, haughty, ungracious,” he reached forward and grabbed her chin. “And so _cold blooded_.”

Pulling away, Cecelia backed away in terror, calling for her guards as whatever the thing was that had once been her tutor banged his staff against the floor and the bell jar with the rose flew into his hand.

“I give you one last chance Princess Cecelia. Marry me and fulfill your promise, or suffer the consequences and loose what little you hold dear.” 

Cecelia in response merely glared back, and spat in his face, turning his smirk into a snarl as the royal guards rushed at the sorcerer.

“Just for that, your entire castle will suffer with you,” he snapped and once more he banged his staff on the ground, causing all of the guards to suddenly drop to the ground, armor empty but still somehow moving on its own.

The rose in the sorcerer’s hand began to glow. “Your ugly heart, so scornful of my affection and gifts will now be revealed for all the world to see, with none of your talents and charms to aid you. This rose would have bloomed forever, but now it will only bloom until your twentieth birthday before it begins to wither. You have until the last petal falls to find true, enduring, and selfless love that is returned. Should you fail, your curse will be permanent. I hope you like your new cloak, you’ll be wearing it for a very very long time.”

Before Cecelia could ask what he meant, the cloak wrapped tightly around her and her body was overcome with intense agony. How long it lasted she couldn’t tell but when she first opened her eyes afterwards, she was relieved to see that the sorcerer was gone.

Then she saw what had happened around her, and upon seeing herself she wished she’d never opened her eyes at all, for she had been transformed into a hideous beast.

It was in this state that the Queen found her daughter and castle when she returned home a few weeks later. Saddened at what had become of Cecelia but unable to abandon her royal duties, her reunion with her daughter was short and frigid as having been separated by the years, they were strangers to one another. They also both knew that the Queen was repulsed by the sight of the beastly princess, whether she wished to admit it or not, though she did make a brave effort to pretend she wasn’t.

As soon as the Queen left the castle and traveled to the Capitol, she told everyone that her daughter and the other inhabitants of her castle had fallen victim to a plague, and passed laws that forbad travel to their castle and the forests around them. 

Inside the castle, the Beast hid the damned rose away in her room, mourned for all she had lost and lamented her loneliness, for all of her servants had become little more than furniture and trinkets, able to move able to move and perform their duties, but not to speak.

 The magic mirror, her cruel suitor’s other gift, became the Beast’s greatest comfort and torment, her only connection to the world she could no longer be a part of, and as days turned to weeks, and months to years, she resigned herself to a life of eternal anguish.

_For who could ever learn to love a beast?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure when I can post the next chapter but until then I thrive on comments! I can't wait to see where this journey takes us!


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